The facade of happiness crashes down again like everything else ever built on lies.I fall down another metaphorical hole today,just like yesterday,just like that last time Fate ******* me over.if only depression was an equation I knew how to solve without a shrink and a calculator.suffient satisfaction for the lithe,hungry beast within me is as scarce as absolute trust.but this flood of 'if only's will drown my sanity(or whatever this mindset is) out.

late nights of Radiohead,bad capitalization,and venting have taken their toll.prose and verse trickle out of me a little smoother when in darkness,anyway.writing is so much like bleeding it scares me.nonetheless,I told myself I'd keep writing in third grade and I haven't stopped since.all humans bleed,it's natural.the most ******-up part,though, is our wanting to leave stains so not every trace of our existences are lost to the void.